


Unknown Territory

by 3RatMoon



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: A lot of students died in both worlds, Alternate Universe - Timeline Crossover, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Golden Deer Ferdinand von Aegir, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Character Death, Resurrection of sorts, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:47:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26796106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3RatMoon/pseuds/3RatMoon
Summary: Where Ferdinand is from, the Alliance won the war. But then, under mysterious circumstances, he is propelled into a world where the Empire was victorious. In this world, he died at the Bridge of Myrddin. In his world, Hubert died in Enbarr. Now, Ferdinand has to decide if living in a Fodlan he fought against happening is worth the chance to get to know him again.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 12
Kudos: 121





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Welcome to my latest fic!
> 
> This idea has been living rent free in my brain since almost I first got into Three Houses, so let's put it to work, shall we?

A moment ago, Ferdinand had been in a fight in Gloucester territory. 

It had been a crisp fall day, perfect weather for travel. Even though he was eager to be back in Adrestia for its milder winter, he hardly minded a day like that one. 

He went as he always did, on his own horse instead of in a carriage. He guessed that the bandits perhaps did not recognize him, or thought that he had grown soft in the peacetime years and would not put up a fight. That was why he was genuinely surprised when they ambushed him. Instinct kicked in quickly, though, and he had not yet gotten out of the habit of going about unarmed.

He only had to kill two of the bandits for the rest to get the message. Even as the others broke ranks and fled, however, one of them spun a Warp spell, and… Ferdinand wasn’t sure what, then, except that his world went abruptly sideways, and then he was tumbling with a grunt onto a surface that didn’t feel much like dirt and brush.

When he looked up, he thought for a moment that he had hit his head. He was, without a doubt, in the old Imperial Palace in Enbarr. He knew it because he went there to work every day. It was where he had been headed when he was attacked, on the way back from a meeting with Queen Byleth in Derdriu. Only the suddenness of his arrival and the unfamiliar nature of some of the décor made him uneasy.

Then, a dead man turned the corner and stopped in front of him.

Ferdinand’s breath caught in his throat.

“Hubert?”

He looked just like he did the day he fell, his hair shorter, his back straighter, his uniform dark and foreboding. A look of shock passed his face before it hardened, dark magic leaping into his hand.

“Who are you?” he asked dangerously. “Why choose this form?”

Somehow, Ferdinand couldn’t find it in himself to be afraid. Perhaps he was dead, too. Perhaps it was merely how he always was around Hubert.

“I could ask the same of you,” he said. Then, more carefully, he added, “The Hubert I knew died when the Alliance took Enbarr.”

Hubert frowned. “The Ferdinand I knew died defending the Bridge of Myrddin.”

Shock finally made it to Ferdinand’s nervous system. His mind reeled, trying to make sense of this new information. Glancing at the statues in their alcoves, the Hresvelg insignia above the threshold, he realized that they were not unfamiliar, but  _ old. _

His eyes returned to Hubert, who was looking at him with something almost like trepidation.

“Hubert…” Ferdinand said slowly. “Who won the war?”

Hubert’s hand twitched around its seed of Miasma. “Your sacrifice was not in vain. The Empire succeeded in uniting Fodlan and scattering the Church to the winds as was Her Majesty’s vision.”

Ferdinand was silent for a moment, but then he started to laugh. He sounded a little hysterical.

“Us poor, unfortunate souls!” he cried. “I think I have been taken to a different world, or else I am dreaming. I am sorry to say that this Ferdinand was a traitor, and where I am from, the Empire was not victorious.”

Hubert’s expression darkened, but he did not attack Ferdinand.

After a long moment, the Miasma in his hand dissipated.

“I have nothing to refute your claims,” he said. “Very well, I will not smite you where you stand. However, I will need to detain you until we can confirm your identity.”

Ferdinand held up his hands, unafraid. “I will comply,” he said. “I know better than to challenge you unarmed.”

Hubert nodded, his lips almost finding the shape of a hard, bitter smile.

* * *

The dungeons below the Imperial Palace were as dark as he remembered them. In fact, they were perhaps the most familiar part of the palace, as dusty and unused as the dungeons after Alliance occupation. Ferdinand went into his cell gracefully, confident in his own authenticity if unsure how he was to prove it.

The darkness made it difficult to tell time, but the torches were kept lit during daytime hours and extinguished at night, and food was brought at regular intervals. This struck him as a kindness. Once, he wouldn’t have considered it, but war had made him aware of all the things he could be denied simply for being on the wrong side.

On the second day, Hubert came to him. He had a notebook and charcoal in his hand, and he asked Ferdinand everything he remembered, practically to when he was a babe. When was he born? Who were his parents? When was he presented to the Adrestian court? When did he go to the Officer’s Academy at Garreg Mach? Who were the professors?

“I transferred to the Golden Deer sometime in Wyvern Moon of that year,” Ferdinand said confidently. “I was interested in Professor Byleth’s skill in heavy armour, and Claude’s leadership style was more appealing than Edelgard’s at the time.”

Hubert’s expression soured somewhat at the last statement, but he scribbled down notes for a long moment before asking his next question.

“When was Her Majesty’s declaration of War on the Church of Seiros and her first attack on the monastery at Garreg Mach?”

“Lone Moon of 1180,” Ferdinand said with a sigh. “That was when I defected from the Empire, in a way. I defended Garreg Mach.”

Hubert was silent except for the scratch of charcoal on paper.

“When I returned to Aegir, I half-expected to be arrested, but Edelgard offered me a position instead, though it was just as a figurehead with no real power. Needless to say, I did not take it. I did not approve of going to war, and it was clear that neither of you had any interest in what I had to say.”

The scratching stopped abruptly. “The Ferdinand I knew took the position with grace, despite such dissatisfactions,” Hubert said with an undertone Ferdinand could not determine.

“The Ferdinand you knew must have let his lust for bloodshed get the better of him,” Ferdinand bit back.

Hubert took in a sharp breath. “Ah, so only the blood of your own countrymen and old classmates did not turn your stomach?” he retorted.

“I would have been fighting old classmates either way!” Ferdinand was standing, shouting. “And for what? The destruction of a church whose hold was already being shaken? Claude had no love for Seiros either, and even had plans to make the Alliance more secular!”

“As if your little Sovereign Duke could have waved his hand and done such a thing with policy alone,” Hubert sneered, leaning forward in his chair.

“No, but after Byleth became the new ruler of United Fodlan, we were able to influence Seteth and encouraged him to lift some of the restrictions on international trade,” Ferdinand said, fighting to keep his voice even. “We have gotten some texts from Almyra that were previously banned, and there are even a couple of printing presses in Derdriu, now. I was working quietly with Byleth on a system of public education, to make good on the promise that the new Governorships are elected instead of inherited.”

Ferdinand looked at Hubert, as if he could will him to understand with his eyes alone.

“We have been making something  _ good, _ Hubert,” he said. “I… I only wish you could see it.”

Hubert looked back, calculating. Then, he sat back and resumed his notes.

“Byleth as the ruler of Fodlan, interesting,” he said. “What of the Archbishop?”

Ferdinand sighed.

“Archbishop Rhea gave the position to Seteth, as she was weakened considerably by the war,” he said.

“Hm,” Hubert grunted, and wrote more. “And Those that Slither in the Dark?”

“You had a letter sent to Claude in the case of your defeat in Enbarr that gave us notice of them,” Ferdinand said. “We found Shambala and destroyed it.”

Hubert’s eyebrow went up a little. “You found Shambala?”

Ferdinand couldn’t help a proud little grin. Hubert had been feigning nonchalance, when he asked. He thought the question would stump him, and he had been wrong. Now Ferdinand had something he wanted, for good or ill. “Of course. Didn’t you?”

Hubert’s face was set like stone. He looked down at his notes.

“Tell me more about this Governorship you speak of,” Hubert said.

Two more days passed without any visits from familiar faces. The guards continued to bring Ferdinand food. Once, a couple figures with dark robes and beaked masks came and did a physical exam, asked him a few more questions, and took some of his blood.

He was given a piece of charcoal, but no paper, so Ferdinand took to writing on the walls. He wrote down his thoughts, songs he could remember, and questions to ask the guards or Hubert when they returned.

_ What day is it? _

_ Was Byleth the professor of the Black Eagles? _

~~_ I _ _ s Claude still alive? _ ~~

~~_ Is Lorenz still alive? _ ~~

_ Who, of our classmates, is still alive? _

_ Do the orchards in Aegir still bear fruit? _

He wrote, and he sang bits of operas he remembered, and he slept. He hadn’t slept so much since he caught a fever while out on campaign. He suspected he might have needed it, even if the mattress was not very comfortable and made his back ache afterwards.

The fifth day in his cell, he received a visit from someone he was not expecting.

“Hey, Ferdie.”

The woman in front of him was the picture of elegance and glamour, from the long sleeves of her burgundy dress to the tumble of brown curls over one shoulder. She looked out of place in the dungeons, and even more so in the dungeons to visit  _ him. _

“Dorothea,” he said, standing politely. “I… was not expecting visitors today.”

Dorothea laughed. It sounded genuine. “Well, to be fair, Ferdie, we weren’t expecting you to return from the dead.”

“I see.” Ferdinand tried not to sound disappointed. “I am not sure what seeing me in person would provide you that Hubert’s notes and tests would not.”

“Oof, being a bit cold, aren’t we?” said Dorothea. “What did the other me ever do to you?”

Dorothea was, as usual, quite shrewd beneath her teasing. Ferdinand looked away. “We never got the opportunity to reconcile our differences,” he said.

“That is unfortunate,” Dorothea said. “The Ferdinand I knew spent a few years with me and the girls during the war. He tried much too hard, but I’d dare say we became friends despite that. I was even thinking of telling him why he was a bee.”

A small laugh escaped Ferdinand. “I did never figure that one out.”

Dorothea smiled. “Well, one rarely gets a second chance like this.”

Ferdinand looked up at her. “You think I am who I say I am?”

Dorothea shrugged. “Hubie should know soon enough. I just didn’t want you left down here alone all day, if you were.”

Ferdinand wasn’t sure what to say.

Dorothea squinted at the walls, where he had been writing. She pointed at the list of questions.

“I can answer some of those for you, if you like,” she said.

Ferdinand glanced behind himself, then back at her. “Please.”

Dorothea nodded and turned so she could rest a shoulder against the bars.

“Well, Claude is for sure alive. He surrendered when the battle at Derdriu went south for him. He gave Edie the Alliance and left for Almyra. Hilda died, though, and so did Ignatz. Marianne is fine, last I heard. Lysithea disappeared a few months ago. I don’t know where Raphael or Leonie are, but supposedly they’re doing well.”

Ferdinand swallowed. “And Lorenz?”

“He’s alive, but he took your death really hard,” said Dorothea. “He was there at the Bridge. He defended your body for hours, I heard.”

Ferdinand nodded to himself.

“As for the Blue Lions…” Dorothea continued. “Annette and Mercedes survived by virtue of being away from the front lines, but everyone else…” She shrugged. “They wouldn’t give up.”

Ferdinand was looking at his hands. “Prince Dimitri died in Gronder, where I am from. It was tragic, but it spared his friends, in the end.”

“Ah. We were the ones who didn’t give up, then,” Dorothea said astutely.

Ferdinand nodded. “The only one who I know survived is Linhardt, who deserted sometime after Fort Merceus was taken. You were at the Palace when we invaded Enbarr, but I don’t know what happened to you.”

Dorothea was quiet.

Then, she said, “Well, we’re all alive here. Linhardt and Caspar are out travelling somewhere. Bernie leaves her townhouse to say hi to us sometimes. Petra is Queen in Brigid. Hubie is still Hubie, and Edie is Emperor.” She smiled sadly. “You were the only one who didn’t make it.”

Ferdinand looked up at her. “And what of you?”

Dorothea grinned. “Little old me? I’m just the Emperor Consort.”

Ferdinand’s mouth opened and closed. “You… you and Edelgard…?”

Dorothea laughed. “Amazing, the things you might notice if you paid attention, Ferdie!”

Ferdinand looked down at his hands again. “Indeed…”

“Oh, come on, don’t make that face,” Dorothea said. Ferdinand looked up to see her smiling. “Once Hubie sorts out everything, you’ll be let out of this awful place, and you’ll have a chance to get to know all of us again.”

Ferdinand frowned. “You would allow that, after I admitted I was a traitor? That my allies killed everyone you called dear?”

Dorothea’s look was kind, but there was steel behind it, as well. “Well, there’s not really anyone for you to betray us to, anymore, is there? We won.”

* * *

The next day, Hubert arrived with someone Ferdinand didn’t recognize. He was wearing a dark tunic and cape that looked vaguely familiar, and had a stoic, almost blank expression.

“Ferdinand,” said Hubert. “I am sure you have met our old professor.”

Ferdinand did not hide his confusion, but that did not seem to bother the other man.

“I hear that I taught the Golden Deer, where you are from,” he said.

Ferdinand blinked.

“Byleth?” Ferdinand asked.

Again, Byleth seemed unconcerned, simply nodding an affirmative.

“You did not recognize him?” Hubert asked, eyebrow raised.

Ferdinand felt a blush rising in his face. “I… the Byleth I knew was a woman,” he said.

Both of Hubert’s eyebrows went up, then.

Byleth hummed thoughtfully. The tone was familiar to Ferdinand. He heard that hum sometimes when he asked a question that needed consideration.

“I did not transition, if that’s what you were wondering,” he said, then turned to Hubert. “It was good to bring me here. Aside from his choices, of course, the only other variable seems to be myself.”

Hubert nodded. “Can you feel any residue of a Dragon Pulse on him?”

Byleth approached Ferdinand, then. Ferdinand went closer to the bars, expecting Byleth to reach out and touch him, but the man just stood and closed his eyes. 

Ferdinand shivered.

Abruptly, Byleth turned back around to Hubert. “I don’t feel a Dragon Pulse, exactly, but I feel… something,” he said. “We can discuss it back at your office.”

“Very well,” said Hubert, and together, the both of them disappeared back down the corridor, leaving Ferdinand alone.

Hubert didn’t say goodbye— didn’t even give so much as an “as-you-were”. Dorothea had given Ferdinand some hope, but Hubert’s coldness was disheartening. If there had been anyone Ferdinand would leap at the opportunity of a second chance with…

And yet.

Ferdinand shook his head. Once it was determined that he was being truthful, they would begin work on finding a way to send him back, wouldn’t they? He had not chosen that life, like his other self had. He did not belong there.

Sighing, he went back to the cot and laid down, staring at the ceiling. He thought briefly of an opera he saw as a child about an Adrestian noblewoman who washed up on the shores of Almyra. The story struck him as almost funny, considering that he had been thinking of going to Almyra to visit Claude— or rather, Khalid— but could no longer due to washing up in an entirely new reality. Staring at the cracks in the stone above him, he tried to recall some of the lines.

_ Summer storm, what have you done? _

_ I lay naked on unfamiliar shores! _

_ Summer sun, why choose now to shine, _

_ Upon my sandy, salted skin? _

The heroine went on about being saved by mermaids, after that, and how she shouldn’t be ungrateful, but Ferdinand couldn’t remember quite how it went. Sighing, he turned over to look at his wall of writing.

He might as well add what he had learned from Byleth’s visit to his notes.

Ferdinand reached down and picked up his piece of charcoal from the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ferdinand is moved from the dungeons, but he is no less a prisoner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the comments and support! I'm excited to keep this story going, and I hope everyone continues to enjoy it.
> 
> Warnings for one brief flashback to Hubert's death in Ferdinand's world.

Ferdinand had been in the dungeons for a week when Hubert came down to take him out.

“As far as we can tell, your claims are genuine,” he announced, business-like. “We have provided you with a room in the Palace proper. You may access most of the premises with my knowledge and an escort, otherwise you will be restricted to your room.”

“That is very generous of you,” Ferdinand said, standing. “One would think you would want me to be seen by as few people as possible.”

Hubert’s face was impassive. “You will not always be granted permission when you ask, and your escorts will be people of my choice. You will be Warped to and from your destinations instead of using the halls.”

Ferdinand smiled wryly. “Ah, that sounds more like it.”

Huber opened the door to Ferdinand’s cell. Ferdinand was not given any warning before Hubert laid a hand on his shoulder and Warped them both. Ferdinand stumbled, disliking the way the spell made his stomach drop.

The new room was one of the nicer guest suites, with an adjoined bath and water closet. It was luxurious for a prisoner, but Ferdinand suspected it was easier than trying to schedule times for him to use the public baths.

“Your meals will be brought at the same times as before,” Hubert continued. “If you need anything, pull on this cord, and one of my people will come to you.”

“Can I go to the stables?” Ferdinand asked.

Hubert leveled him with a look. “No.”

Ferdinand shrugged. “I thought I would try.”

“If you are done asking questions you know the answer to,” Hubert said pointedly, “I have other things to attend to.”

Ferdinand paused for a moment. Several thoughts crossed his mind, but he discarded them. “Go on,” he said.

Hubert was the one to pause, then, almost studying Ferdinand for a moment. Then, he looked away, and a second later, he was gone.

Ferdinand sighed and went to investigate his new gilded prison.

His initial sweep revealed a full wardrobe and a desk stocked with paper and ink. The bed was much more comfortable than the cot in the dungeons, and he almost succumbed to it before he forced himself to get up so he could turn the mattress over.

Underneath, he found a sigil. He found the same one beneath the tea table as well as on the underside of one of the desk drawers. Ferdinand did not disturb them, but took their presence as confirmation that he was being listened to.

After his investigation, he finally peeled himself out of his travel clothes and drew a bath. There were no sigils in there, at least. The water was hot, and the soap smelled of sage and mint. He washed his hair, then soaked for a while as it dripped over the side of the tub. Then, finally, he got up and dried off, wrapping himself in the towel to go and look into his wardrobe.

The clothes were not new, which would have surprised him. They were simple, a variety of greens and reds with white shirts and trousers in cream or grey. They also almost fit him perfectly, only slightly tight in the stomach. It brought back a familiar frustration from his first year post-war, when he was training less and sitting more, his middle softening and growing just wide enough that he had to come to terms with getting new clothes to keep up his dressing standard as Governor of Adrestia.

It occurred to Ferdinand suddenly that the clothes he had on may have belonged to his other self.

Quickly, he went on to his next task. Pulling the cord, he summoned another robed and masked person who Warped him back to the dungeons. They stood silently by as Ferdinand transferred all of his notes to paper.

_ Lindhart and Caspar travelling— parents still alive?  _

_ Count Bergliez still Minister of Military?  _

_ Who is Prime Minister? _

Once all of this was done, he was taken back to his room, where his lunch was waiting for him, along with a pot of tea. Lifting the lid and smelling, he found it to be a fruit blend of some kind. Someone knew his tastes. It struck him as both flattering and disconcerting.

He thought of pulling the cord again, but Hubert’s people didn’t seem very talkative. Perhaps it was the masks.

As Ferdinand ate, he perused one of the books he had found in his initial run of the suite. It was a treatise on the preservation of forested land. He found it interesting— he had focused so much of his study of agriculture on methods of production and distribution that he hadn’t considered how much of Gronder and Aegir may have once been forest.

He remembered talking to Leonie once as she taught him how to clean the rabbits they had caught while on campaign.

“Our village doesn’t raise animals for meat,” she had said. “They’re more useful for milk and eggs and plowing, so we only slaughter them when they can’t do their jobs anymore. Most of our meat comes from hunting.”

Ferdinand wondered how many villages in Adrestia lived the same way, and how many had to give that up when forests were felled so more grain could be grown for cities.

After lunch, he went to his desk and wrote more notes. What he was writing them for, he did not know. For Edelgard? For the lords back home? Simply for himself, unable to stop thinking about better governance even when quite thoroughly removed from the position? He stopped briefly, heaving a frustrated sigh at himself, but he couldn’t help resuming. He wanted to at least finish his thought, he said to himself. And the next one.

In the end, he passed much of the rest of his day like that, reading and note-taking. It was more engaging than singing half-remembered operas to himself, at least. Going from almost certain overwork to sudden, all-consuming boredom had done a number on him.

The next morning, after he broke his fast, he summoned another of Hubert’s people.

“Good morning,” they said politely. “What do you require?”

Ferdinand thought for a moment. “Where can I go in the palace?” he asked.

“The conservatory and hedge maze are unoccupied at the moment,” said the robed figure. “Minister von Vestra is in his office.”

Ferdinand raised an eyebrow. “I am allowed to visit Hubert?”

The figure gave a small nod. “When he is not busy, you may visit him anytime.”

Ferdinand almost commented that the two statements contradict each other, but he resisted the urge.

“Take me to Hubert’s office, then, please,” he said.

The person disappeared for a moment, no doubt to give Hubert notice, then returned.

“You may see the Minister,” they said.

Another sickening jolt later, Ferdinand was in Hubert’s office. 

The office both was and wasn’t exactly what Ferdinand was expecting. It was relatively dim, thin curtains blocking out the glare of the sun beaming through east-facing windows. The furnishings were dark wood with burgundy upholstery, perfect for the shadow of the Emperor. Yet, a part of Ferdinand expected more alchemical equipment. Perhaps Hubert had labs elsewhere.

Hubert himself was still strange to behold. There he was, alive and unconcerned, only expressing some mild consternation at the paperwork in front of him. Ferdinand could scarcely believe it.

Likely sensing the Warp, Hubert said without looking up, “An interesting choice for your first excursion.”

Ferdinand crossed his arms, as if he hadn’t been thinking the same thing.

“It is not as if I am allowed to see anyone else,” he replied.

“You may in time, if you behave,” Hubert said.

Ferdinand bit his lip to keep from making an unflattering remark. The power that man had to bring out his ire… Still, he found himself at a loss for what else to say. Hubert continued writing as if Ferdinand wasn’t there.

“What do you drink?” Ferdinand asked abruptly.

Finally, Hubert looked up from his work, his one visible eyebrow raised. “Hm?”

Ferdinand felt silly already, but he was committed. “What do you drink? Tea? Coffee, still?”

Hubert’s eyebrow rose further. “Coffee, yes, still.”

Ferdinand took in a breath and put his hands together. “Well, then! Do you keep any here in your office? I see a kettle by the hearth…”

“Are you honestly offering to make me coffee?” Hubert turned in his chair to face Ferdinand. “Are you truly so bored that you are willing to run about acting as my valet?”

Ferdinand pouted. “A week ago I was the Governor of Adrestia during its post-war recovery! Now, I am here with nothing to do!” he exclaimed. “Just let me brew you some of your acrid bean-water and pretend at normalcy for twenty minutes!”

Maybe his imprisonment had more of an effect on him than he expected.

Hubert gave him an odd look, but then turned back to his work.

“The dresser to the left, there,” he said, curtly. “Top drawer.”

Ferdinand went to said drawer and found a small amount of coffee, already ground, along with a metal coffee pot. From what Ferdinand understood, a standard tea pot wouldn’t strain the grounds properly. Once everything was set out, he went about boiling the kettle, peering at the various items on display around Hubert’s office as he waited.

“Is that your armour?” he asked, looking at a set of leather armour on a stand in the corner.

Hubert glanced up from his work. “Oh. Yes,” he said, like he had forgotten it was even there. “I wore that during the war.”

Intrigued, Ferdinand stepped closer. It looked half put together, disjointed without the mage robes that were likely worn with it. Ferdinand wasn’t as well-versed on light armour, but he looked at the set with an appraising eye.

“When was the last time this has been conditioned?” he asked.

“I don’t know, sometime in the last year,” Hubert said with a distinctly bored tone.

“The last year!” Ferdinand exclaimed. “Leather armour like this needs to be kept up regularly, or else it will become susceptible to cracking and rot! Where is your leather conditioner?”

Hubert gave a great sigh and waved a hand in the vague direction of the corner Ferdinand was in. “Somewhere over there,” he said, as if it pained him to try to be more specific. “Do not try to force a drawer if it will not open right away. I would rather not have to scrape you off the floor later.”

“Why would you— ah,” Ferdinand said. He should have figured that Hubert would have set traps in his office.

Thankfully, there were no mysteriously jammed drawers in Ferdinand’s search. Eventually, at the very back of a cabinet filled with what seemed like old campaign supplies, Ferdinand found a small bottle of conditioning oil, along with a cloth. It was if Hubert had returned from the war and shoved all his personal effects that couldn’t be otherwise organized into the cabinet and left it at that.

“You’re smiling,” Hubert said with grave suspicion.

Ferdinand looked up at him, quite unable to wipe the expression from his face. “Oh, I simply find it interesting how a room can tell one so much about the person occupying it.”

“Hm,” Hubert said, clearly displeased but unable to bother doing anything about it, and returned to his work.

The kettle was boiling by then, and Ferdinand set down the oil and cloth to pour the water into the coffee pot. He noted the time on the clock on the wall before returning to the armour.

Everything was leather except for the metal pauldrons, all dyed a dark grey. When Ferdinand wiped a greave down with the oil, it turned glossy and almost black. He imagined Hubert in battle, dark mage robes billowing around him, revealing a glimpse of the protection underneath…

He saw Hubert stagger back, a yellow-fletched arrow in his chest.

Ferdinand blinked hard and looked back at the clock. Yes, the coffee was done.

Retrieving a cup from the small set kept where he found the pot, he poured the coffee into it, the smell enveloping him. The aroma of coffee was always so enticing, Ferdinand thought. It was truly a pity that it did not taste the way it smelled.

“Ah, thank you,” Hubert said as the coffee was brought to him.

Ferdinand smiled. “You are very welcome.”

Ferdinand spent the rest of that morning sitting in one of Hubert’s chairs and conditioning his armour. He felt his mind quiet with the simple work, so unlike the thought-heavy task of governance. For a little while, it felt like he was back at the Officer’s Academy.

“Did you and… the other Ferdinand spend much time together at Garreg Mach?” Ferdinand asked before he could think better of it.

Hubert did not look towards Ferdinand, but his hand stilled in its writing.

“No,” he said. “I was generally busy carrying out preparations for Her Majesty’s war at the time. I did not have much time to get to know the other members of our house until afterwards.”

Ferdinand took in a breath and let it out. “There was no hope for me, then, even if I hadn’t transferred houses.”

“No,” Hubert agreed.

They were quiet for a long time after that. Ferdinand finished conditioning Hubert’s armour and put it back on its stand.

“I will have to return later to polish the pauldrons,” he said. “But the rest is good until the next time.”

“You have my thanks,” Hubert said. “And for the coffee. It was a good brew, if a bit weak for my tastes.”

Ferdinand gasped, putting a hand to his chest. “A compliment!” he exclaimed. “I may just faint from the shock!”

“Ah, my apologies. I shan’t do it again,” Hubert replied drily.

Ferdinand grinned. “My, my. I may like your sense of humour.”

A strange look passed over Hubert’s face before it abruptly fell flat. He turned back to his work.

“If you are quite done,” he said, “I have a meeting with Her Majesty soon.”

“Of course,” Ferdinand replied, standing. One of Hubert’s people was already there. Ferdinand wondered how Hubert had summoned them.

Ferdinand stepped next to the door before turning back.

“Will you… tell her hello for me?” he asked.

Hubert paused, but did not look up. “We shall see,” he said.

Ferdinand nodded, straightened his back. “Then, good day to you, Minister.”

He was whisked away before he could get any goodbyes in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on twitter @3RatMoon1


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Habits are formed. Friends are (possibly) made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the comments! It makes me happy to know that all of you are enjoying this fic as it progresses! I'm a bit shyer on ao3 than on twitter, but I'd like to try to reply to all your comments soon!

Ferdinand returned the next day to polish Hubert’s pauldrons, brewing him another (stronger) cup of coffee while he was there. The day after that, he went through Hubert’s cabinet of abandoned campaign supplies.

“I assume you don’t mind me rooting around in here, since there aren’t any traps,” Ferdinand said, head half inside the cabinet.

“No traps only means there are not any sensitive items or documents,” Hubert replied from his usual place at his desk. “However, it appears I cannot stop you, regardless.”

“Certainly not!” Ferdinand said cheerfully.

Ferdinand set out all the items he had procured from the cabinet, which included the leather conditioner and cloth he had used before, a whetstone, a tin cup and silver eating knife, and a single vulnary.

“The vulnary can go to your personal medkit, or I am sure the infirmary will accept it…” Ferdinand said out loud. “The cup can go to the quartermaster at the barracks, unless you are particularly attached to it. The knife as well— it is slightly better quality than standard soldier’s fare, but it is not something I would say you need unless you are doing a fair bit of travel, especially in the wilds.”

Hubert was quiet for long enough that Ferdinand wondered if he had been listening at all, but then he said, “I will keep the knife. Put it on my desk.”

Ferdinand brought the knife over in its leather holster, setting it down. Hubert glanced up from his reports.

“What of the leather oil?” he asked.

“Ah,” said Ferdinand. “Well… I was hoping to keep it myself, if that is alright.”

“To condition your undoubtedly extensive collection, I am sure,” said Hubert drily.

Ferdinand blushed. “I know it seems silly, but I can bring it back to your office at any time, and should you ever have anything that needs a touch-up…”

Ferdinand expected another snide comment, perhaps something about shining Hubert’s boots, but instead:

“You may keep the oil,” Hubert said.

“Oh,” Ferdinand said. “Thank you.”

Hubert went back to his work.

Ferdinand summoned one of Hubert’s people and gave them instructions on where to take the remaining items. Then, he took a seat in one of the unoccupied chairs and opened the book he had brought with him. It wasn’t much different from what Ferdinand did in his room, but it felt different, doing it with someone else there. It was part of the reason why he liked to study in the courtyard or library when he was in Garreg Mach. Simply being in the presence of others soothed him, made it easier to focus.

“I had heard,” Hubert said suddenly. “That the Ferdinand I knew did what you were doing.” 

When Ferdinand aimed a quizzical look in his direction, he cleared his throat. “When he was staying with Dorothea, Petra, and Bernadetta, during the first few years of the war, I mean. I heard that he was always looking for things to do, sometimes to the point of annoying the staff.”

Ferdinand smiled a little. “That sounds like me.” He paused, then asked, “What about after that?”

“He was a general,” Hubert said. “He was plenty busy.”

Ferdinand nodded. “Isn’t that when you and he got to know each other more?”

Hubert was quiet for a moment. He looked almost cautious. “Yes. We were working more closely together at that time. We would… have tea and coffee together, sometimes, and discuss the betterment of Fodlan.”

Ferdinand swallowed. He had lost his place in his book.

“That sounds pleasant,” he said.

There was a long silence, broken only by the ticking of the clock on Hubert’s wall.

* * *

The second week passed in much the same way. Ferdinand got to see other parts of the Palace on the occasion, but he kept finding excuses to see Hubert. Aside from his masked aides, he was the only person Ferdinand saw. Perhaps it was because of the isolation, but Ferdinand found Hubert’s presence, calm and focused, to be comforting.

So, when one day, Hubert was not there, Ferdinand didn’t know what to do.

“Do you know when he will be back?” he asked Hubert’s aide.

“The Minister will return when his tasks have been completed,” they said.

“Is there a… rough timeline for said tasks?” Ferdinand continued.

“That is beyond my ability to say.”

Ferdinand gave a frustrated sigh, but did not try to argue with the aide. It was like yelling at a brick wall, with them. Hubert had trained them well.

At least, Ferdinand thought, there was something else to occupy his mind with. “You said there was a letter for me?”

The aide produced an envelope from their robes. It was only addressed to “F,” but when he turned the letter over, he recognized the wax and seal. It was Bernadetta’s.

“Thank you,” Ferdinand said. “I have nothing else for you at this time.”

The aide disappeared, leaving Ferdinand to go to his desk and open the letter.

> _9 Horsebow, 1187_
> 
> _Dear Ferdinand,_
> 
> _Hubert told me of your presence in the Palace and your situation, and I wished to at least make myself known to you, even if we could not see each other. I’m better at expressing my thoughts through writing, anyway, so this is probably the best way to reacquaint ourselves._

Ferdinand had to agree with Bernadetta. Her writing was so different from his conversations with her that they seemed to come from a completely different person.

> _I am staying in my mother’s old townhouse in Enbarr. It is where I lived during the first few years of the war, so it’s the closest thing I have to home. It’s a bit more empty, now, with Dorothea and Petra off doing their own things. And, with your other self gone, of course._
> 
> _I hope you will reply to my letter. From what Hubert said, it doesn’t sound like you have a lot of visitors, and I know how you would get when you didn’t have anyone to talk to. Tell me what your world was like, maybe? Don’t tell me if I died, though. I don’t like thinking about that._
> 
> _Best wishes for you,_
> 
> _Bernie_

Ferdinand read the letter over a second time, smiling. Feeling motivated, even beyond a lack of other things to do, he pulled a sheet of paper from the desk, along with ink and quill, and began to write.

> _10 Horsebow, 1187_
> 
> _Dear Bernadetta,_
> 
> _Thank you for taking the time to write to me. I was so very pleased to receive your letter today. As you predicted, I have not seen many people since my arrival in this world. Dorothea visited me once, but otherwise, it has only been Hubert and his aides. Hubert is not a terrible host and has tolerated me being a busy-body, but I do miss people terribly._
> 
> _I do not know where to start, talking about my world. Claude left Fodlan after the war, leaving Byleth to be the Queen of the new United Fodlan. Each province has a Governor: Felix is Governor of Faerghus, Lorenz of Leicester, and myself Governor of Adrestia. It was very hard work, with the damage done to Adrestia by the war, but we were starting to see the beginnings of recovery._
> 
> _But, perhaps that is the boring part. My favourite parts of the couple years since the end of the war have been these:_
> 
>   * _The sight of the stars over the water in Derdriu_
> 

>   * Sunset over Enbarr
> 

>   * The first few blossoms in the orchards in Aegir, after years of no fruit
> 

>   * Horseback riding with Lorenz in Gloucester
> 

>   * Learning folk dances from Leonie
> 

>   * Drinking and playing cards with Claude, Sylvain, and Raphael
> 

>   * Seeing the brown grasses in the fields where I ride begin to turn green
> 

> 
> _Many of these things I can still see here, and the possibility of seeing them again some day encourages me._
> 
> _I am also encouraged by the possibility of getting to know you. I will not say whether you lived or died, but I will say that we did not get the chance to know each other before I transferred houses. I only knew the little girl who I once may have been betrothed to and the frightened young woman who I saw hidden behind books at the academy. Already, I feel like I know you better than I ever did, and I look forward to strengthening that bond._
> 
> _Please write back when you find the time. Tell me more about your daily comings and goings if you like. I am eager to learn about what I may have missed, whatever you wish to share._
> 
> _With a full heart,_
> 
> _Ferdinand_

* * *

Ferdinand did not receive a letter in return right away, which he tried to take in stride. Bernadetta’s anxious nature struck him as something that might delay the writing of a letter. Still, without any contact beyond Hubert’s people, he was quickly beginning to grow restless again.

That was when Dorothea came to him the second time.

“Heya, Ferdie!” she said with a sparkling smile. “I’m here to help you get ready! Today is a big day, after all!”

Already, she had her head in Ferdinand’s wardrobe, picking through jackets.

“May I ask why today is a big day?” Ferdinand asked, following her.

“Yes, you may,” said Dorothea.

There was an expectant pause before Ferdinand sighed and asked, with less enthusiasm, “Why is today a big day?”

Dorothea grinned, holding out her chosen jacket. “Because today,” she said, “you are joining the Emperor and her Consort for tea.”

Ferdinand’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

Dorothea continued to make herself at home in Ferdinand’s wardrobe, and soon his hands were full of not only a jacket, but trousers, stockings, a waistcoat, and a shirt. Ferdinand retreated to his bed with his items, glancing over his shoulder at Dorothea as he started to unbutton the jacket he had chosen himself for the day.

“Some privacy, please?” he asked.

“Oh please!” Dorothea laughed. “Between the opera and the medic tent on the battlefield, do you know how many men’s rear ends I’ve seen?”

Ferdinand shifted on his feet, eyeing the bed, where he knew what was likely an eavesdropping sigil was written. “It still feels inappropriate…”

“Fine, fine! Here, I’m not looking, see?” Dorothea said, turning around.

Ferdinand capitulated finally, but he still turned away as he undressed quickly and put on the items picked out for him. He had grey breeches with white stockings and shirt, and a red waistcoat underneath a handsome burgundy jacket with velvet on the labels and subtle red embroidery around the cuffs. It was possibly the nicest item in his entire wardrobe.

“Ooh, you look just dashing!” Dorothea said, approaching him as he tied a teal-blue ascot about his neck. “Here, sit down down, let me do your hair.”

Ferdinand sat. “Why are you doing this for me?” he asked.

Dorothea set about separating his hair into parts for a braid. “I know my Edie believes in seeing past appearances, but I know the value of a first impression,” she said. “And, it’s not very often that you get a second chance at first impressions.”

“I understand…” Ferdinand said carefully. “But that is not quite what I meant.”

Dorothea’s grin turned wry. “You mean, why do I care?”

“That is… more blunt than I would put it, but yes,” Ferdinand replied.

Dorothea laughed. “Okay, let me put it like this. My first impression of you was not very good. However, I got a second first impression back when I visited you in the dungeons.” She smiled, tying the braid off with a deep blue ribbon. “I want Edie to see some of what I saw there.”

“Well, then, I ought to put on my old clothes and roll around in the dirt a bit,” Ferdinand said, grinning.

“Don’t you dare!” Dorothea gasped, smacking him playfully on the shoulder. “Come on now, we don’t want to be late.”

They were Warped to the reception room, but Ferdinand would have recognized it anywhere. The room was wide with rich redwood flooring and wainscoting, and the windows looked over the whole of Enbarr below.

Still, the room itself was not what drew Ferdinand’s eye when they arrived. Instead, it was on the figure already seated at the table.

The last time Ferdinand had seen Edelgard, she had taken the form of what would be later known as the Hegemon. Half human and half Fell Beast, she had taken up most of the throne room with her size, and her voice rolled like thunder through the halls. The Edelgard in front of Ferdinand was as human as could be, wearing a simple red dress with a tailed bun hanging over one ear.

Ferdinand had forgotten how small she was.

“The Queen Consort has arrived,” said Hubert’s aide, “with guest, Ferdinand von Adrestia.”

Ferdinand felt a small jolt in his stomach at the announcement. “Von Adrestia” was the name used for commoners, people without a named House. Though, he supposed they weren’t wrong; as far as they were concerned, the Aegir house had died on the Bridge of Myrddin three years ago.

Quickly remembering himself, Ferdinand put a hand to his chest and bowed deeply. “It is an honour to receive Your Majesty’s invitation,” he said.

“Technically, the invitation was mine,” Dorothea quipped, already walking to the table.

Ferdinand tried not to rush as he went to pull out her seat.

Edelgard’s impassive mask turned warm. “Dear, please be kind to our guest.”

Dorothea smiled back at Edelgard as Ferdinand pushed her in. “I suppose, since he is being such a gentleman and all.”

Ferdinand went to his seat, dazed by the exchange. Had he ever seen Edelgard so open? She still sat with the authority of an Emperor, but she also seemed more relaxed.

“Allow me to welcome you officially, Ferdinand,” Edelgard said, her face regaining its serious set. “I would have liked to sooner, but Hubert has been very… cautious.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Ferdinand said automatically, before the words caught up to him. If Edelgard was being prevented from seeing him by Hubert, then their choice to invite him while Hubert was gone…

“Don’t worry about Hubie,” Dorothea said, apparently catching onto what Ferdinand was thinking. “He won’t come after you for this. One can’t refuse an invitation from the Emperor of Fodlan, after all.”

“It is true!” Ferdinand said. “I only feel a little badly— he has been a good host since I moved from the dungeons.”

“More like spoiled rotten, with you making him coffee every day,” Dorothea said.

Ferdinand tried not to fidget. “I simply wish to make myself useful.”

Edelgard almost smiled. “I believe I heard something similar from the Ferdinand we knew. He would grow restless when he was not chosen to go to battle with Byleth and I. We are much alike, in that way. I never did like staying behind while soldiers died in my name.”

Ferdinand desperately tried to think of what to say to that.

Sensing the tension, Dorothea cleared her throat. “Tea today is Bergamot. Hopefully that is to your tastes.”

Ferdinand smiled, latching onto the new subject. “Ah, bergamot reminds me of tea with Lorenz! Back at Garreg Mach, he often served us with the very set I gifted him through Byleth.”

“Ah, yes, I remember hearing your voices clear down the courtyard when the two of you got together,” Dorothea said with a grin.

Ferdinand’s smile wobbled. “I would not be surprised. We were both young and not well-practiced in the art of discretion.”

“Oh, what horror to be heard speculating on the prices of your favourite tea blends!” Dorothea laughed.

“Or your marks in lancing,” Edelgard added.

Ferdinand felt a blush rise to his face, but he couldn’t help but laugh along with them. “Those were much simpler times, weren’t they?”

Dorothea shrugged, but Edelgard nodded.

The Emperor’s violet eyes focused on Ferdinand, and he suppressed a shiver.

“If it does not make you uncomfortable, Ferdinand, I would like to hear more about the Adrestia you called home,” she said.

“Of course,” Ferdinand said. He put down the cup that he had just picked up.

“Well, of the three provinces, Adrestia was certainly the hardest hit by the war,” he said. “We had to accept grain from Leicester and Faerghus because of the damage to Gronder and Aegir— there’s nothing to do but let the fields heal on their own, after all. On the bright side, the farmers were able to come into the villages and cities to help with rebuilding, which sped things along nicely.”

Ferdinand glanced across the table. Dorothea was buttering a scone, looking bored, but Edelgard was attentive.

“You know, there was this most interesting book in my room, talking about the value of wild forests in Fodlan. I hadn’t considered that meat from hunting could be preferable to raising livestock, but once I started to think about it, it made sense. The variety of wild animals are more resistant to plague, the villages are able to be more self-sufficient than cities that rely on grain imported from the country… This knowledge changes significant portions of my plans for avoiding famine in Adrestia as we continue to recover.”

At that point, Ferdinand realized he had not only been rambling, but rambling about things he could no longer influence.

He cleared his throat. “My apologies. I fear that while I am no longer a Governor, I am still thinking like one.”

Edelgard shook her head. “You are only thinking as you always have. These are merely… extraordinary circumstances.”

“It was a very Ferdie thing to say,” Dorothea agreed, before putting a piece of scone in her mouth and chewing delicately.

Ferdinand was surprised by the response. He hadn’t realized until that moment that he had been expecting something different, that he had been bracing himself for a cold remark from Edelgard or a barbed compliment from Dorothea. Had Ferdinand’s impression of them been so wrong before, or had they changed over the years as much as he had?

“You are both too kind,” he said, humbly.

Edelgard made a face that might have been pity, or understanding, or perhaps indigestion.

“We have kept your mouth busy with words instead of tea!” Dorothea said. “Please, let us talk for a bit! Is there anything you would like to know about our Fodlan?”

A number of questions flew through Ferdinand’s head, but few of them seemed appropriate for tea, much less tea with the Emperor. In the end, he settled on something light but genuinely interesting to him, hoping it would seem pandering.

Though, he thought, he was beginning to get the idea that such a blunder would not be the end of his relationship with Dorothea and Edelgard.

“Well, if the Lady Consort does not mind, I would love to hear about this season’s line-up at the opera house,” he said.

Edelgard smiled a small smile. Dorothea’s eyes sparkled.

“It would be my pleasure!” Dorothea said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on twitter @3RatMoon1


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ferdinand's friendship with Dorothea (and frustration with Hubert) grows. Ferdinand has a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all of the comments and encouragement here and on twitter! This chapter is a little shorter, but I loved the ending too much to tack on another scene just for length, y'know?
> 
> Please enjoy!

Hubert returned after eight days. It surprised Ferdinand, somehow, to hear that simple “Minister von Vestra is in his office,” from the aid after so many days without a word. If not for seeing Dorothea and Edelgard and his correspondence with Bernadetta, he would have started to suspect the man was merely a dream.

Perhaps he still was. Perhaps all of it was. The thought hadn’t left Ferdinand’s mind. Even so, there was nothing for him to do but engage with his strange new world, so he did.

Ferdinand went to Hubert’s office.

Hubert was at his desk as if he had never left it, bent over some report or another. He had on a pair of reading specs, which Ferdinand found endlessly endearing. There was just something about seeing the Butcher of Enbarr so… domestic.

“Good morning, Hubert,” Ferdinand said.

“Good morning,” Hubert echoed. “You sound cheerful.”

“Why wouldn’t I be, when my sole human contact has returned?” Ferdinand replied.

“Now, we both know that isn’t true.” Hubert looked up from his work. “Bernadetta has been writing you, and you had tea with Her Majesty and Dorothea.”

Ferdinand sighed. “I do not know why I hoped you would be more pleased.”

Hubert made a face. “I only wish they were more cautious with you,” he said.

Ferdinand crossed his arms. “I know I am a traitor, but as Dorothea told me, there is no one left for me to betray you to,” he said. “The Empire won the war. The future I was trying to prevent has already come to pass. What motivation do I have? What would be the point?”

“Not no one,” Hubert said quietly.

“What?” Ferdinand asked.

Hubert looked up, steel in his gaze. “You and I both know that there are still those who remain.”

It took Ferdinand a moment to catch on, but once he did, he gaped at Hubert.

“You— you think I would go to _them?”_ he asked, his voice climbing. “After what they did to Fort Merceus? To Byleth? To _Edelgard_ and her family?”

“You do seem rather well-versed on the subject,” Hubert said, voice clipped.

Ferdinand ignored the comment, staring him down, his fists clenched. “Do I still, after all this time, have to prove to you that I am not like my father?”

Hubert did not reply. The look he gave Ferdinand might have been surprise, but it was too distant, like he was looking through him.

Hubert abruptly turned back to his work. “I am Minister of the Imperial Household, but I am also the Imperial Spymaster. It is my job to be suspicious. Try not to take it personally.”

After a long silence, Ferdinand sighed. The conversation was clearly over, but it hung over the office like a miasma. Part of him wanted to take leave of the infuriating man in front of him, but Ferdinand wasn’t much in the mood to be alone. So, in the silence, he sat in his usual chair, and he opened his book to read.

* * *

_18 Horsebow, 1182_

_Dear Bernadetta,_

_Nothing too much of note has occurred since my last letter. Hubert has returned, so I doubt that I will be having tea with the Emperor again very soon._

_Sometimes, I wonder if Hubert ever stops working, except to use the facilities and occasionally sleep. Do you know if he has any hobbies? I know he used to play chess with Claude and Sylvain back in the academy, but when I asked about a game, he simply said that I was not up to his standards as a challenger. The gall of that man, sometimes! It is a wonder I spend any time with him at all!_

_Perhaps I shall start practicing on my own. It is not as if I am low on free time._

_You are very much correct, I do miss riding terribly. It was the first thing I did every morning back home. Even when the house healer expressed concern that I was working too much, she encouraged me to keep riding. She said it was good to have a period of time set aside each day just for myself._

_Yes, I think I shall endeavour to become a worthy opponent for Hubert! Then, he will see the worth of keeping up such a hobby._

_Let it never be said that Ferdinand von Aegir steps down from a challenge!_

_With great regard,_

_Ferdinand_

_P.S. I am happy that you still take care of your plants, even if they unnerve me. Perhaps I shall see them again someday, and I will find a new sense of respect for them, if not your affection._

* * *

Hubert was gone again after two weeks in his office. Ferdinand tried not to feel put off by his absence, by the lack of warning. He kept up his little jaunts through the empty parts of the palace, his reading, and his chess practice. He even read about chess, after one of Hubert’s people very kindly retrieved a volume for him from the Imperial library.

Blessedly, Dorothea arrived before Ferdinand grew too restless.

“Good morning, Ferdie!” she said, as cheerful as ever. She had on a dress the colour of new growth in spring, and a bundle of brown cloth was in her arms.

Ferdinand stood from the table, where he was studying a game of chess laid out by the book. “Good morning, Dorothea,” he said. “What brings me the pleasure?”

Dorothea grinned. “I’m here because we’re trying something a little daring, today.” She unfolded the brown bundle, holding it up. “You’re going to go on a walk through the gardens with me!”

Ferdinand finally recognized what Dorothea was holding. They were the robes of a monk, much like those he saw at Garreg Mach.

“And I am to wear those, I assume?” he asked.

Dorothea nodded. “Hubie said he didn’t want you to be seen by anyone not in the know, but there’s more than one way to not be seen, hm?”

“That is awfully clever,” Ferdinand said.

“Oh, you flatterer!” Dorothea replied. “Go on, put these on.”

Ferdinand thankfully, did not have to strip completely to don the robes, but he still felt awkward as he changed. Dorothea at least seemed to understand and turned around again.

“Oh, perfect!” she said when Ferdinand was finished. “And for the finishing touch…”

Deftly, she pulled up the hood of the robes, tucking his bright hair inside. When she led Ferdinand to the mirror, he was surprised by what he saw. The hood hung low over his face, casting the rest in shadow. He looked much like any monk from the Church, part of a faceless multitude, no identity beyond devotion.

“Now, just don’t go about shouting ‘I am Ferdinand von Aegir,’ alright?” Dorothea said with a grin.

Ferdinand couldn’t help but chuckle. “You have my word.”

Dorothea smiled and took his arm. “Then, let us away!”

Ferdinand hadn’t seen the Imperial gardens yet, missing the apparently rare opportunity in favour of going to Hubert’s office the first time. He found that they looked much the same as in his world, except perhaps more lush. Much of the hedge maze had caught fire during the push into the palace proper and had to be replaced. These hedges were untouched and healthy, growing well over his head. Dorothea meandered them with the surety of someone who knew the path by heart, and Ferdinand followed her, her arm in his.

“It must be good to get some fresh air, hm?” Dorothea asked him.

“Indeed,” Ferdinand replied. “I have been outside before, but only briefly.”

Dorothea shook her head. “I can hardly believe it. Though, I suppose I can’t blame Hubie for not wanting you to be seen. Rumours are already rampant about who stays in your room.”

“Oh?” Ferdinand asked, intrigued. “What kinds of rumours?”

“A bit of everything, really,” Dorothea said. “There’s some that we’re harboring a Dagdan noble— or have them hostage. It goes both ways. Some think it’s a secret nursery for a bastard child of Edelgard’s— ha! Some people think we have Lysithea, too, which I wish was the case, but no.”

Ferdinand turned his head toward Dorothea, though he couldn’t be sure she could see his face. “I remember you saying she disappeared a few months ago.”

Dorothea nodded. “The only thing she left behind was a letter saying to not go looking for her.” She sighed. “She did say that all she wanted was to make a good quiet life for herself and her parents. I guess she did that. I only wish she would’ve stayed a little longer. Her and Edie were close, you know?”

Ferdinand squeezed Dorothea’s arm a little in what he hoped was a companionable gesture.

Dorothea turned back to him, putting on a smile. “Well, in any case, now there will be rumours that we have a member of the Church trapped up in the palace,” she said.

Ferdinand chuckled. “Where I am from,” he said, “you had the Archbishop captive during the war, so it would not be out of character.”

Dorothea quirked a brow. “Is that so? It’s a pity we didn’t have her. There were a few words I would have liked to have.”

Ferdinand guessed that they were not kind words.

Suddenly, the maze opened up into a wide circle filled with red roses. Dorothea led Ferdinand up the path cutting through the flowers to the fountain at its centre, sitting down on the lip.

Dorothea stretched her arms, taking in a deep, luxurious breath. “I love coming here,” she sighed happily. “It’s so bright and beautiful, the sound of the water is calming, and hardly anyone comes out here but the gardeners.”

Ferdinand hummed, sitting next to her. “That sounds lonely to me, but I am a bit biased at the moment.”

Dorothea laughed. “True! Honestly, I would love to switch with you for a day. Being Emperor Consort means having to be social sunrise to sunset— even longer! I love people, but that level of careful interaction is exhausting!”

“Knowing that, I feel especially honoured that you are taking the time to visit me,” Ferdinand said.

Dorothea smiled. “Well, I find that I quite like you, now that you’ve quieted down a little.”

Ferdinand smiled back from within his hood. To his left, he saw a bee light upon a rose before climbing up and inside.

“You said that you nearly told my other self why he was a bee,” he said. “Do you think I may earn such a privilege someday?”

Dorothea was looking up at the clouds slowly moving across the sky. “Someday,” she said.

For a moment, they were quiet, Dorothea looking up and Ferdinand down.

“That actually reminds me,” Dorothea said after a while. “I have a question, if you don’t mind.”

“Please,” Ferdinand said. “Go on.”

“Do you like men?”

Ferdinand blinked. “I like them fine, I suppose.”

Dorothea gave him a look.

“ _Oh._ ” Ferdinand was suddenly grateful for the hood hiding his face. “Well… the answer remains the same. Yes.” He laced his fingers together. “I would say that I like both men and women, in that respect.”

Dorothea was looking at him like she was studying him. “Huh,” she said, and looked back up at the clouds.

“Was there… a particular reason why you asked that?” Ferdinand ventured.

“I shouldn’t say,” Dorothea replied. “Something about your other self.”

“Oh,” Ferdinand said. “Did he like men as well?”

“I’m not sure,” Dorothea said. “We never talked about it outright.”

Ferdinand nodded, and they lapsed into silence again.

After a while, Dorothea stood. “Well, we should probably make our way back,” she said.

Ferdinand took her arm again, and they walked together back the way they came. They did not talk as much, the walk filled with the same thoughtful silence as the fountain.

“Dorothea,” Ferdinand said after a while.

“Yes?” said Dorothea.

Ferdinand turned his head towards her. “Thank you, for looking after me. I only hope that I will get the opportunity to repay the favour.”

Dorothea smiled. “I’m sure you will.”

* * *

_2 Wyvern, 1182_

_Dear Ferdinand,_

_I hope you are doing well while Hubert is gone. I was pleased to read that Dorothea has visited, at least. I know I spend most of my time alone by choice, but I get lonely sometimes, too. Writing helps, though. I hope it helps you, too._

_Maybe you can try writing Petra and Linhardt sometime, if Hubert has told them about you. He might allow it if you pester him a bit. He doesn’t seem like it, but he cares about all of the old Black Eagles, and he cared about your other self, too. (Please, don’t tell him I told you that.)_

_My plants are all still doing well. I’m a little worried about my flytrap, because it failed to catch a fly the other day, and it takes a lot of energy to open up again. It should be fine, though. I just worry._

_The tree near my house is starting to turn. I love fall time. I like to open the windows and just smell the air, all full of rain and leaves and baked apples from the market. I even want to go outside, sometimes! Maybe I’ll try to visit, soon. I’ll bring you some apples. (Try not to hold me to that.)_

_Sincerely,_

_Bernie_

* * *

Ferdinand dreamed.

He was back in his room at Garreg Mach. He was arguing with Hubert. Hubert wasn’t supposed to be there. He was supposed to be with the approaching army, on the other side of the war. But, he was there, sitting on Ferdinand’s bed, as if nothing was wrong.

Their arguing reached a fever pitch, and then Ferdinand couldn’t help himself.

He kissed Hubert.

Hubert kissed him back.

They kept kissing. Ferdinand climbed up on the bed, straddling Hubert’s hips. Ferdinand couldn’t let go, couldn’t stop, because if he did, Hubert was going to leave, and then Hubert was going to die.

Hubert gripped his shoulders. Ferdinand pinned him to the bed. He felt a heat building at the apex of his thighs, where the two of them met. Ferdinand pressed their mouths together in fury, in fear, in desire, in desperation. He didn’t want the last time they met this way to go like this, but he knew, he knew, he _knew—_

Ferdinand woke up.

It was light out. Ferdinand stared at the plastered ceiling as he felt his heart slowly calm its frantic beating. It was quiet except for his breathing and the chirping of birds outside. His blankets were tangled around him, his sleeping clothes sticking uncomfortably to his skin.

Ferdinand allowed himself a frustrated sigh.

He hadn’t had that dream in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yell about Ferdinand with me on twitter @3RatMoon1


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ferdinand meets with Bernadetta, plays chess, and meets someone new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings this chapter!

The same morning that Ferdinand woke from his dream, he learned that Hubert had, once again, returned. Not about to deviate from his schedule, Ferdinand went to Hubert’s office, despite the emotions sitting like a rock at the bottom of his stomach.

“Welcome back, Minister,” he greeted Hubert upon his arrival.

“Ugh, as indomitable as ever, I see,” Hubert groused.

“As foul-tempered as ever, I see,” Ferdinand returned with a smile.

Hubert rolled his eyes. They seemed even more sunken than usual. “The sooner that you get to your reading, the sooner I may get to mine,” he said.

Ferdinand held up his hands. “I will not keep you.”

It was easy to fall into the routine, by then. Hubert worked while Ferdinand put the kettle on, reading while he waited for the water to boil. When he had the coffee brewing and opened the cabinet again to get a cup, he was surprised to find a second set.

“Have you always had a tea set here?” he asked Hubert.

“Ah, no, I retrieved that from storage,” Hubert said.

Ferdinand examined the set. It was proudly Adrestian, with the double-headed eagle rising out of a bed of roses. Ferdinand found it a little gaudy, but he was not about to say such a thing out loud.

“Oh, and tea as well!” Ferdinand said, pulling out the tin. He opened the lid and took a whiff. “A cinnamon blend. Interesting.”

“One of the few blends I tolerate,” Hubert said.

Ferdinand couldn’t contain a grin. “You don’t say?”

Hubert pressed his lips together, his hand rubbing at his throat. “Do not think to ply me with more tea hoping my tolerance will grow.”

“No, I was merely thinking of brewing us some of this one, perhaps tomorrow,” Ferdinand said honestly (though the thought of finding other teas Hubert might like did appeal to him).

“Hm,” Hubert said. Ferdinand suspected that Hubert would not mind such a thing, except that it would replace his coffee.

Ferdinand served Hubert, then sat back down and opened his book.

“What on earth are you reading?” Hubert asked a moment later.

“Ah!” Ferdinand held up the chess book proudly, even though Hubert was undoubtedly being rhetorical. “I thought to take some time to study chess techniques.”

“Merely reading on the subject is not going to convince me to play a game with you,” Hubert sniffed.

“Oh, no, I have been practicing as well!” Ferdinand said cheerfully.

Hubert groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “I issued you a challenge when I told you that you were not skilled enough to play with me,” he said with realization.

“And Ferdinand von Aegir does not back down from a challenge!”

Ferdinand blinked when he realized that Hubert had finished the statement with him. Then, he could not help but laugh.

“It seems you know me better than I thought!” he said.

“How unfortunate,” Hubert said, but Ferdinand did not miss the little upturn of his lips as he turned back to his work.

Ferdinand did not bother Hubert further after that, returning to his own studies. He felt a warmth in his chest as he read, something more energetic than the comfort of the other man’s presence. Ferdinand liked it as much as it worried him.

Still, his reading did not distract him from noticing Hubert’s hand going to his neck once more, two fingers sliding under his collar. Ferdinand briefly thought it merely a shadow, but as Hubert adjusted his collar as if it chafed him, Ferdinand saw the unmistakable mark of a bruise wrapped around his throat.

Ferdinand looked back at his book before he was caught staring. Suddenly, he wondered exactly what Hubert was doing when he was out on business— what would involve people who fought back.

* * *

It was a few days later that Ferdinand was surprised to find someone else in Hubert’s office when he arrived.

“Bernadetta!” Ferdinand shouted.

“Eep!” said Bernadetta, shrinking back.

Ferdinand realized that he had started towards her, his arms open. Stepping back, he cleared his throat. “My apologies for startling you. This is just such a pleasant surprise.”

“Ah, Ferdinand. Bernadetta was just asking after you,” Hubert said, sensing the opening. “I can have one of my aides escort you both back to your quarters, or another room not currently occupied.”

“Actually,” Bernadetta piped up, to Ferdinand’s surprise. “I would like it very much if I were to, um, spend a little time with both of you. If you’re not too busy.”

Ferdinand beamed. “I would love nothing more. Hubert?”

Hubert was pointedly not looking at either of them, his lips a mere line on his face. “I suppose I have a little spare time,” he said eventually.

Bernadetta clapped her hands together. “Oh, I’m so glad! Here, I brought something for all of you…”

Reaching over to a bag that was sitting in the chair Ferdinand normally occupied, Bernadetta pulled out three beautiful, golden apple tartlets. Ferdinand had been wondering in the back of his mind why Hubert’s office smelled vaguely homey, and as the scent of the pastries bloomed in his nose, he immediately understood.

“I got one each for Her Majesty and Dorothea, too,” Bernadetta said. “I know I said I’d bring you apples, Ferdie, but I passed by these on the way here and I couldn’t help myself. I thought, well, they’re kind of close enough, aren’t they?”

“They’re wonderful, Bernadetta,” Ferdinand said warmly.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. “The tea!” he exclaimed, almost dashing for the cupboard. “The cinnamon blend would go perfectly with these!”

“Huh?” said Bernadetta, even as Ferdinand placed the tea tin in her hands and went for the kettle.

“I suppose we are having a proper tea time, now,” Ferdinand heard Hubert drawl.

Cautiously, Bernadetta opened the tin and smelled the contents. “Oh!” she said. “This  _ is _ nice.”

Ferdinand smiled to himself, a little proud, as he bustled about. He prepared everything while Hubert and Bernadetta chatted about the various plants they cultivated. Ferdinand suspected that they weren’t plants he would find in the conservatory. He wondered where Hubert kept them.

Hubert cleared stray papers from the reception table, and Ferdinand set out the tea set along with the tartlets.

“We only seem to have spoons here,” Ferdinand said, peering into the drawers. He pulled out a bowl of sugar. The creamer was, of course, empty. “Is that enough for you, Bernadetta?”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Bernadetta replied. “I usually just eat these with my hands.”

Ferdinand once would have balked at such a statement, but the war had, if anything, taught him some humility. One’s hands were just as effective a tool as any for eating, in the end, if not always the most elegant.

Hubert and Bernadetta came over to sit at the reception table just as Ferdinand poured the water into the teapot. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Bernadetta turn her cup to look at it and grimace a little.

After Ferdinand had returned the kettle and gone back to the table, he stopped suddenly. Hubert and Bernadetta sat across from each other, a chair next to each of them where he could sit. He thought certainly that he should sit next to Bernadetta, as he was also essentially a guest, but he did not want to make her uncomfortable by sitting so close, either.

“Ferdinand, quit standing there like a startled deer,” Hubert said.

“Ah, yes, yes,” Ferdinand mumbled.

After another moment’s hesitation, he took the chair next to Hubert. Did he tense for a moment, or was Ferdinand seeing things?

“So, um,” said Bernadetta. “How has your chess practice been, Ferdie?”

Ferdinand’s chest puffed up. “Well, I think! I have learned a number of techniques, and I have observed games from beginning to end as set out by the book that I borrowed from the Imperial library.”

“A game simplified for a book does not compare to the experience of playing against an opponent,” Hubert said, sounding quite stuffy.

“I whole-heartedly agree!” Ferdinand replied, pouring tea for Hubert and Bernadetta, then himself. “It is truly a pity that I have no one to test my newfound skills against.”

The silence that followed was palpable. Ferdinand took his tiny spoon to his tartlet.

“Uh, m-maybe I could play with you, sometime!” Bernadetta said suddenly.

Hubert looked at her, a deep furrow in his brow. “Bernadetta,” he said slowly. “You hate chess.”

“I-I know! I just thought, well, it’s been a few years since I last played, and, uh, maybe I’ll like it this time! I wouldn’t know unless I tried, right?”

Ferdinand realized suddenly that Bernadetta was defending him.

“I would love to play chess with you sometime, Bernadetta,” he said.

Bernadetta gave Ferdinand a wobbly smile. “You, uh, you can just call me Bernie, you know. I call myself that.”

Ferdinand smiled back. “Of course, Bernie.”

The rest of their impromptu tea time went smoothly, after that. The tarts were delicious, and together with the tea, they suffused Ferdinand with a comfortable warmth. He found that he quite liked sitting with Hubert and Bernie and talking about inconsequential things while he refilled their cups. He liked seeing the way Bernie’s shoulders slowly pulled away from her ears, and he liked the small smile that graced Hubert’s face when he thought no one was looking. He liked all of it quite a bit.

Eventually, it was Hubert who sat up and said, “I am afraid that I do not have much more time to spare, today.”

“That’s alright,” Bernie said. “I need to get these last two tarts to Edelgard and Dorothea, anyway.”

“I will take me leave, then, as well,” Ferdinand said, standing. “It was so good to see you, Bernie. I hope we might see each other again soon, if you are able.”

“I’ll try to stop by,” Bernie said with another little smile.

“You, of course, I shall see tomorrow,” Ferdinand said to Hubert.

“Of course,” said Hubert stiffly.

They all parted ways, after that, with Ferdinand returning to his room. Normally, he felt more uneasy about returning to his normal lonely life, but after that, he felt more comfortable. He felt the warmth of their time together like a blanket around him, or a warm coat donned before going out into the cold. He felt prepared to take on what the rest of the day had to offer.

It was starting to feel like he had friends, again.

* * *

Bernadetta’s offer to play chess with Ferdinand must have had more of an effect on Hubert than he let on, because not long after her visit, he made his own offer.

“Truly?” Ferdinand asked, both astonished and delighted.

“Draw it out and I may change my mind,” Hubert replied moodily.

“Perish the thought!” Ferdinand exclaimed, grinning. “Do you have a set here?”

Hubert nodded over to one of the numerous hutches and drawers lining his office walls. Eagerly, Ferdinand went and retrieved the set. It was simple but elegant, with a birch and ebony board and glass pieces. Hubert, predictably, chose the black side, leaving Ferdinand with the white.

The game started quietly, conversation minimal, pieces moving without interacting. It reminded Ferdinand of when two sparring partners circled each other, watching each other carefully before the first strike.

Ferdinand saw an opening. He moved his knight, taking a pawn and eyeing the rook within his reach.

“Foolish,” Hubert said, capturing the knight with his bishop.

Ferdinand back-tracked, moved several of his pawns and his own rooks. It was over fairly quickly after that, though, despite Ferdinand’s best efforts. He scrambled to keep up while his pieces fell left and right to Hubert. In a daring gambit, he captured Hubert’s queen, but instead of looking displeased, Hubert sat back, smirking. Almost lazily, he moved his bishop.

“Check,” he said.

Ferdinand looked at the board. Hubert’s bishop had a clear path to his king. Quickly, Ferdinand blocked it with a rook, which Hubert took.

“Check again,” he said.

Ferdinand looked around desperately, but there was nowhere his king could go where it wasn’t in check. In the rush to keep control of his pieces, Ferdinand had been surrounded.

“I can’t…” he said.

Still smirking that terrible smirk, Hubert reached out a finger and gently tipped Ferdinand’s king onto its side.

“Mate.”

Ferdinand sighed, the tension leaving his body. Starting with his king, he started collecting his pieces. “Good game. Care for another round?” he asked.

Hubert handed Ferdinand back the pieces he had captured. “I think that is enough for today,” he said. “As I suspected, it will take some time for you to be a challenge to me.”

Ferdinand tried not to bristle, opening his half of the board to store the pieces within. “Do you have any advice to spare, at least?”

Hubert hummed. “You are still too fresh to have developed techniques worth critiquing,” he said. “Except… you are too reckless with your knights. It is a strange tactic put to poor use.”

“Ah,” said Ferdinand. “I suppose that reflects how I am in battle.”

Hubert raised an eyebrow. “You see yourself as a knight?”

“Not in Faerghan terms, but in regards to the game, yes,” Ferdinand said with a smile. “I assigned different pieces different personalities, I suppose. I am like a knight, and you are like a bishop. Bernadetta is like a rook. Dorothea and Edelgard are the Queen and King, of course.”

“You think Edelgard helpless, unable to defend herself?” Hubert asked.

“No, but she is the most crucial figure of the Empire. Plus, have you seen her try to run in that tower armour? The king’s movement is quite accurate!”

That comment earned Ferdinand an almost-smile from Hubert. Ferdinand’s stomach fluttered.

“Well, that is enough of that,” Hubert said, closing his side of the board. “I have work to return to. Care to put the kettle on for more coffee?”

Ferdinand smiled. “Of course.”

* * *

Hubert was too busy to meet with Ferdinand the next day, and the day after that, he was gone again. Ferdinand kept himself busy reading, writing to Bernadetta, and more recently, training. There was not much he could do without practice weapons, but he did calisthenics and what brawling forms he could remember from the Academy. He did not know why he was so concerned with his fitness suddenly, except that he kept thinking about the bruise around Hubert’s neck, Hubert’s silence after Ferdinand said that he had seen Shambala fall in his world. It made him uneasy, and at night, he started to dream of the resurrected Elites.

So should fate have it that less than a week later, Hubert Warped into Ferdinand’s room.

“Hubert what a—” Ferdinand had been about to say “pleasant surprise,” but the words died in his throat at the sight of Hubert’s condition.

Hubert looked ragged, swaying on his feet with an expression like he hadn’t yet realized where he was. He had a hand on his side, and the fabric of his jacket had a wet sheen that Ferdinand didn’t like.

“Ferdinand,” Hubert said, quiet and almost confused. “I did not…”

Ferdinand was on his feet immediately. “Hubert, what happened?” he asked, alarmed.

“Nothing I could not handle,” Hubert protested, even as he went readily to the chair Ferdinand pushed him towards.

“Hubert—” Ferdinand started, but held his tongue. Arguing would be of no help. Instead, he went and pulled the cord to summon one of Hubert’s aides.

“Bring the house healer, please, or whomever Hubert gets treatment from,” he said sternly.

When he turned back, Hubert was sitting straight in the chair, his face carefully blank. Ferdinand went back to him. 

“Here, let us get this off,” he said, starting on the buttons of Hubert’s jacket.

“Don’t…” Hubert started. “I only need to gather my strength to Warp to the infirmary.”

“Gather your strength, then, but I am still going to do what I can for you in the mean time,” said Ferdinand. “I happen to have some skills in Faith, enough for at least some first aid.”

Carefully, Ferdinand pulled away Hubert’s jacket, revealing his blood-soaked shirt. Ferdinand removed that as well, and the undershirt, revealing the wound at last. It was a sizable laceration, painful and bloody. Ferdinand gently placed his hands on Hubert’s abdomen, feeling beneath the skin. Some of Hubert’s organs were bruised, but the internal bleeding seemed under control. Carefully, he concentrated his Faith on the laceration itself, willing blood to clot and skin to grow. When he stopped, the wound was just an unsightly scab.

“There,” he said. “That should stop the bleeding, at least. The healer can handle the rest, make sure there’s less scarring.”

“I don’t care about scarring,” Hubert said, sounding already more lucid.

“I am sure you do not care about appearances, but a scar that size would take quite some time to soften enough to not inhibit your movement,” Ferdinand said.

Hubert did not answer him. Instead, he said. “You should not have called the healer.”

Ferdinand put his hands on his hips. “And what _ else _ was I supposed to do? Sit with you while you bled? I cannot walk with you to the infirmary— I cannot walk anywhere!”

Hubert looked away. “I did not mean to come here,” he said.

Ferdinand watched him. 

“Hubert,” he said. “Where have you been going when you are not at your office?”

Hubert looked up.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Hubert looked down at his feet again. Ferdinand sighed and went to open the door.

Rushing inside the room in a flurry of robes, it was none other than Manuela.

“Hubert!” she exclaimed. “What on earth did you get up to this time? You did not even make it to the infirmary!”

Hubert sighed deeply. “My business is confidential, as always.”

“Of course,” Manuela grumbled, kneeling to look at the wound, her hands firm and steady on his side. “Oh. Did you have a concoction already?”

“I ran out,” Hubert grunted. “Our— guest has been of some assistance.”

“Oh!” said Manuela, standing and turning around towards Ferdinand. “I did not realize, please, let me…”

Her words trailed off as her eyes locked onto Ferdinand, who was standing awkwardly to the side of the room. Her tanned complexion went almost grey, her mouth closing and then opening again.

“Ferdie?” she asked in a small voice.

Ferdinand smiled self-consciously. “That would be me, yes.”

Suddenly, Manuela’s face hardened. She whirled around to face Hubert.

“Hubert, explain,” she said. “Now.”

Hubert sighed. “This Ferdinand is, from the best of our knowledge, from another world like ours— one where he survived.”

“So, the boy I prepared for burial myself?” Manuela asked.

“He still remains under the ground, yes,” Hubert answered. “I did not desecrate any graves, Manuela.”

“I wouldn’t have put it past you,” said Manuela off-handed. “Why did you keep this from me?”

“The fewer of those who know, the better,” Hubert said. “It is a very delicate situation, still.”

Manuela was quiet for a long moment, her hands squeezed into fists. But then, eventually, they relaxed. Slowly, she turned to Ferdinand, looking him over.

“You look just like him,” she said, wistful. “You’re a little rounder around the middle, I suppose. Following in your father’s footsteps, are you?” She smirked. “Let us hope you get to keep your hair, at least.”

Ferdinand chuckled. “Let us hope,” he said. “Though, if you may, Hubert is still injured.”

“Oh! Oh, yes, of course,” Manuela said, turning back around and approaching Hubert again. “I must say, though, you have done an excellent job sealing the wound. Where did you learn that?”

“Byleth taught me during the war,” Ferdinand said.

Manuela paused at that briefly, frowning just a little, before turning her attention back to Hubert. “Interesting. You will have to tell me more of your world sometime, perhaps when it is not so late at night.”

Ferdinand smiled. “Well, I am quite free tomorrow…” He glanced up at Hubert.

Hubert caught the look. “Now that Manuela knows you are here, I will not stop you two from seeing each other,” he said with some reluctance. “And—” He looked to Manuela. “I entrust you to tell no one of Ferdinand’s presence here.”

_ “Please, _ I may be a gossip, but I was also a spy, once,” Manuela said, waving a hand. “No one will hear a thing from me.”

Hubert sat back with begrudging acceptance. Manuela did quick work on him, the scab slowly shrinking as it was overtaken by new skin. The scarring was minimal. It was impeccable work.

Ferdinand approached the two of them as Manuela stood back up. “Would tea at eleven tomorrow, suffice, Manuela?” he asked.

Manuela turned back to Ferdinand. She had aged, even from the last time he saw her, but when Ferdinand saw her smile, it was the same smile she had given him when she was a diva at the opera and he was but a boy in short pants.

“I would love that,” she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on twitter @3RatMoon1


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